Chapter 8: The Father Behind The Monster
The screen went black.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
The only sound in the room was the hum of the old lights above us.
Richard Whitmore’s face had disappeared.
But his voice remained.
*“I’m glad you survived.””*
The sentence repeated in my mind.
Not because it shocked me.
Because of the way he said it.
Not with anger.
Not with surprise.
With disappointment.
Like my survival was an inconvenience.
Like I had ruined a plan that had taken years to build.
Marcus was the first person to move.
He walked toward the screen and checked the cables.
“Who activated this?””
Nobody answered.
The officers in the room looked confused.
Daniel looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Terrified.
I turned toward him.
“You knew he was watching.””
Daniel looked at me.
“No.””
The answer came immediately.
Too quickly.
Then he lowered his voice.
“I knew he was capable of anything.””
I stared at the man who had destroyed my life.
The man who had lied to me.
The man who had tried to erase me.
And somehow, standing there, I saw something I never thought I would see.
Fear.
Real fear.
Not fear of getting caught.
Fear of his father.
Marcus noticed too.
“Daniel.””
Daniel looked at him.
“Tell us everything.””
Daniel laughed quietly.
A broken sound.
“You think you want that?””
Marcus stepped closer.
“Yes.””
Daniel looked at the empty screen.
Then he sat down.
For the first time since I had known him, he looked small.
“My father didn’t build a foundation.””
He swallowed.
“He built a machine.””
Nobody interrupted.
“He used the foundation as a way to collect information.””
Marcus crossed his arms.
“Information about who?””
“Everyone.””
Daniel rubbed his face.
“Business partners. Employees. Politicians. Investors.””
He looked at me.
“People who could threaten him.””
I felt sick.
“So he controlled people.””
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.””
“And you helped him.””
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.””
The honesty surprised me.
Maybe because Daniel had spent so long lying that truth sounded unfamiliar coming from him.
“Why?””
He looked at me.
“Because I grew up believing that was normal.””
I said nothing.
He continued.
“My father didn’t raise me to be kind.””
His voice became quiet.
“He raised me to win.””
A memory flashed through my mind.
Daniel’s obsession with perfection.
The way he hated losing.
The way he treated every argument like a battle.
I used to think it was ambition.
Now I understood.
It was training.
Marcus asked:
“When did you realize what he was doing?””
Daniel looked away.
“Too late.””
“How late?””
“When I was twenty-eight.””
He paused.
“I found records.””
My heart tightened.
“Like the files I found?””
Daniel nodded.
“Yes.””
“What were they?””
He looked at me.
“Proof that my father had people removed from his way.””
The room became silent.
“Removed how?””
Daniel didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Everyone understood.
I looked at him.
“And you still stayed.””
His face tightened.
“I tried to leave.””
“Did you?””
“No.””
A bitter smile appeared.
“You don’t leave Richard Whitmore.””
The words carried more weight than anything else.
Because for years, I believed Daniel had power.
But maybe he had only inherited a cage.
Marcus looked toward the officers.
“We need to find Richard immediately.””
Daniel shook his head.
“You won’t.””
“Why?””
“Because he wants you to look for him.””
That stopped everyone.
Daniel continued.
“My father never hides because he’s afraid.””
He looked at the blank screen.
“He hides because he wants people chasing shadows.””
A chill moved through me.
Then my phone vibrated.
Everyone froze.
Unknown number.
Again.
Marcus looked at me.
“Don’t answer.””
But I already knew.
Richard.
I pressed the button.
“Hello?””
A calm voice answered.
“Hello, Elena.””
My fingers tightened.
“You’re alive.””
A small laugh.
“I’m disappointed that’s the part you focus on.””
“What do you want?””
The voice remained calm.
“I want to talk.””
“You tried to kill me.””
A pause.
“No.””
My anger rose.
“No?””
His voice remained steady.
“I tried to protect what I built.””
The words were worse than an admission.
Because he didn’t see himself as a criminal.
He saw himself as someone protecting his creation.
“You destroyed people.””
“No.””
He corrected me.
“I removed obstacles.””
My stomach turned.
There it was.
The same language.
The same coldness.
The same way Daniel had talked about me.
Richard continued.
“Daniel was weak.””
I looked at Daniel.
He heard it.
Everyone did.
“He became emotional.””
Richard sighed.
“He should have followed instructions.””
Daniel’s face changed.
For the first time, anger replaced fear.
“You used me.””
The room went quiet.
Because Daniel was speaking directly to his father.
The man who had controlled him.
Richard heard him.
“Daniel.””
His voice became colder.
“You always wanted my approval.””
Daniel froze.
The words hit him harder than any accusation.
“You spent your entire life trying to become me.””
A pause.
“And you failed.””
I watched Daniel’s face.
A lifetime of pain passed through his expression.
Then Richard spoke again.
“Elena.””
I focused on the phone.
“You were always the problem.””
I clenched my jaw.
“Because I found the truth?””
“Because you changed him.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Richard continued.
“Before you, Daniel understood his purpose.””
I looked at Daniel.
“After you, he started questioning things.””
A silence.
“You made him weak.””
Daniel closed his eyes.
And I realized something.
Richard didn’t hate me because of the files.
He hated me because I had changed his son.
I had made Daniel human.
Or at least I had tried.
Richard continued.
“I gave Daniel one simple task.””
“What task?””
“Make sure you stopped searching.””
My blood ran cold.
“And when he failed?””
Richard answered without emotion.
“I handled it.””
The call went silent.
Then Marcus interrupted.
“Richard Whitmore, you’re being recorded.””
A pause.
For the first time, Richard sounded amused.
“Good.””
Marcus frowned.
“You’re admitting everything.””
“No.””
His voice became softer.
“I’m giving Elena the truth she wanted.””
I felt uneasy.
“What truth?””
Richard answered:
“The truth that Daniel was never the person you should have feared most.””
Then the line went dead.
Nobody spoke.
Until Daniel suddenly stood.
His face had changed.
“What?””
Marcus looked at him.
“What is it?””
Daniel stared at the phone.
“He knew.””
“Knew what?””
Daniel looked at me.
“He knew you would come back.””
My heart stopped.
“What are you talking about?””
Daniel’s breathing became uneven.
“My father kept records of everything.””
He looked at Marcus.
“Everything.””
Then at me.
“Your hospital stay.””
The room froze.
“My recovery.””
I couldn’t move.
Daniel whispered:
“He knew you survived.””
The words hit harder than anything before.
“No.””
Daniel nodded slowly.
“Yes.””
My voice shook.
“If he knew…”
I couldn’t finish.
Because the question was too terrifying.
Why didn’t he come for me?
Why did he let me heal?
Why did he let me disappear?
Daniel answered the question before I asked.
“Because he was waiting.””
A cold feeling spread through me.
“Waiting for what?””
Daniel looked at the evidence folder.
At the documents.
At the people who had returned from the past.
Then he said:
“For you to find everything.””
I stared at him.
“Why?””
Daniel’s face turned pale.
“Because the files you found…”
A pause.
“They weren’t evidence against him.””
Marcus frowned.
“Then what were they?””
Daniel looked toward the dark screen.
And his answer changed everything.
“They were a map.””
Nobody breathed.
“A map to where he hid the real evidence.””
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
“And where is it?””
Daniel looked at me.
“He hid it somewhere only you would think to look.””
I shook my head.
“I don’t understand.””
Daniel whispered:
“Your old house.””
The room went silent.
Because my old house had burned down two years ago.
The same night Daniel claimed I died.
The same night everything I owned disappeared.
Then my phone buzzed again.
A message appeared.
No number.
Only a photo.
I opened it.
And my blood ran cold.
It was a picture of my childhood home.
Still standing.
Not burned.
Not destroyed.
Hidden.
Under the image were six words.
*“You forgot what was underneath.””*
And beneath that message was a second line.
A name.
May you like
The person who sent it.
*Richard Whitmore.*
